Least Read Observational Poems
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poetry about life, society and the natural world
Find an undiscovered masterpiece in the DU Poetry least read poems.
OxyMoronicMe
G.L.
G.L.
Poem Published
18th Oct 2021 10:03pm
18th Oct 2021 10:03pm
POLL: THE PRODUCTION LINE
PROMOTION
Speech much like inciting a rebelion
words full of sanctimonius wrath
a form of disguise, substituting motivation
— hear yeah, the wisdom of the righteous
candidates selling themselves off
as the champion of your interest
SALES
The exercise of free choice in democracy
is much like a market of monopoly
where choices are limitted edition only
— vote yeah, the brand of oligarchs
greedy crocodiles who gave away money
In public coffers they profitted greatly
AFTER-SALES ...
Speech much like inciting a rebelion
words full of sanctimonius wrath
a form of disguise, substituting motivation
— hear yeah, the wisdom of the righteous
candidates selling themselves off
as the champion of your interest
SALES
The exercise of free choice in democracy
is much like a market of monopoly
where choices are limitted edition only
— vote yeah, the brand of oligarchs
greedy crocodiles who gave away money
In public coffers they profitted greatly
AFTER-SALES ...
#politics
3 reads
1 Comment
FeNyX
Poem Published
26th Dec 2020 8:59am
26th Dec 2020 8:59am
Meatball Surgery Or How I Purge?
Bloody wounds all 'round
Deep sucking oozing canyons
Of carnage seeping all 'round
White and red red and white
Black and red Black and white
My pages are made of gauze
Where I bleed my wounds on the bloody pages sworn
For all to gawk at and ridicule
In open argument or silent retinue
Here let me write more for your amusement
A flick of the blade ...
Flash of implement raised
A deft controlled slice with no more pain
As easy as that I open a vein ...
Bloody wounds all 'round
Spill...
Deep sucking oozing canyons
Of carnage seeping all 'round
White and red red and white
Black and red Black and white
My pages are made of gauze
Where I bleed my wounds on the bloody pages sworn
For all to gawk at and ridicule
In open argument or silent retinue
Here let me write more for your amusement
A flick of the blade ...
Flash of implement raised
A deft controlled slice with no more pain
As easy as that I open a vein ...
Bloody wounds all 'round
Spill...
#love
#LifeAsAWriter
#frustration
9 reads
5 Comments
FeNyX
Poem Published
30th Dec 2020 5:32pm
30th Dec 2020 5:32pm
Dissonant Chimes In The Soundtrack Of Life
Calling out of tune Dammit!
Blaring when dulce demanded
Tinkle tackle tingly
Skin crawling with aversion
Cant they see its subversion
Underwater it might do
Cackling and crackling
In open sunny air
Only leads to despair
Clackety crackle pop
Stop it dammit!!!
Definitely not Janet!!!
Slipping the knot
Drop the chair
Cant you see how your words
Can lead to permanent disrepair
Tss ba ba tss ba ba tss ba ba splash
Better now it's time to crash ...
...
Blaring when dulce demanded
Tinkle tackle tingly
Skin crawling with aversion
Cant they see its subversion
Underwater it might do
Cackling and crackling
In open sunny air
Only leads to despair
Clackety crackle pop
Stop it dammit!!!
Definitely not Janet!!!
Slipping the knot
Drop the chair
Cant you see how your words
Can lead to permanent disrepair
Tss ba ba tss ba ba tss ba ba splash
Better now it's time to crash ...
...
#love
#depression
#MentalHealth #despair
#MentalHealth #despair
9 reads
2 Comments
FeNyX
Poem Published
21st Jan 2021 5:58pm
21st Jan 2021 5:58pm
Spirits Of A Material Soul
You lurk among my shadows
Watching ...
Your silence as loud as thunderous applause
Your quiet glimpses an indictment to my soul
But don't look into my heart
It reeks with necrotic flesh decaying under an unrelenting sun
Food for predators and bottom feeders alike
Charred to obsidian it will only revive with honest true love
There's always Jarvik ...
Watching ...
Your silence as loud as thunderous applause
Your quiet glimpses an indictment to my soul
But don't look into my heart
It reeks with necrotic flesh decaying under an unrelenting sun
Food for predators and bottom feeders alike
Charred to obsidian it will only revive with honest true love
There's always Jarvik ...
#hurt
9 reads
6 Comments
FeNyX
Poem Published
29th Jan 2021 6:23pm
29th Jan 2021 6:23pm
Never Surrender
Sometimes we think of life in concrete terms
When maybe it's only that just out of reach nest of dreams
We're destined to chase and reach for pulling us through
Until we just stop ... all a ploy to keep us moving until we can't
Or not ...
When maybe it's only that just out of reach nest of dreams
We're destined to chase and reach for pulling us through
Until we just stop ... all a ploy to keep us moving until we can't
Or not ...
#love
#LifeCycle
9 reads
2 Comments
FeNyX
Poem Published
31st Jan 2021 4:40pm
31st Jan 2021 4:40pm
On Compassion
To do a thing that serves you is good
To do a thing that helps you is good
To do a thing that doesnt serve or help you
That provides even a sliver of service to another is compassion ...
Proud to know so many such souls ... and more are needed
You are always welcome ...
Bless and love ...
To do a thing that helps you is good
To do a thing that doesnt serve or help you
That provides even a sliver of service to another is compassion ...
Proud to know so many such souls ... and more are needed
You are always welcome ...
Bless and love ...
#love
10 reads
2 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
30th Apr 2019 6:31am
30th Apr 2019 6:31am
Lakeside 29/30
And the wind soughing in the trees
Catches in their ears, is sent out
In scouting parties of sensation down their spines.
If you say it became language or it was nothing,
Who touched whom?
In what hurtle of starlight?
Poor language, poor theory
Of language. - Robert Hass
I take out the box, it could be any kind-
a shoebox or a treasure chest, or a room-
and currently the lid is closed. I’m not
here to talk about the cat,
if it’s dead or present. Here I am in life,
opening it and what do you know
but a...
Catches in their ears, is sent out
In scouting parties of sensation down their spines.
If you say it became language or it was nothing,
Who touched whom?
In what hurtle of starlight?
Poor language, poor theory
Of language. - Robert Hass
I take out the box, it could be any kind-
a shoebox or a treasure chest, or a room-
and currently the lid is closed. I’m not
here to talk about the cat,
if it’s dead or present. Here I am in life,
opening it and what do you know
but a...
#identity
#NaPoWriMo2019
11 reads
3 Comments
Shakespearan-Sweet
Poem Published
7th Jun 2020 4:03pm
7th Jun 2020 4:03pm
Unconsciousness Ink
I CANT BREATH”!
“I CANT BREATH”!
“Without God’s love”
“Without God’s love”
"My God, My God,
“why hast thou forsaken me?"
(“Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani?”)
“I CANT BREATH”!
“Without God’s love”
“Without God’s love”
"My God, My God,
“why hast thou forsaken me?"
(“Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani?”)
#hope
#LifeStruggles
#religion
#God
#freedom
11 reads
2 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
23rd Apr 2019 5:05am
23rd Apr 2019 5:05am
Lakeside 21/30
It is a fact, a small fact. A known one
among our kind. Among the singed.
Among the moths of fringes and in their
fringes is this fact burnt from that what
we misunderstand as the moon in the kitchen.
It is a joyous metaphor of the night-blues.
There we edge drawers of butchers
and carvers. There we prosody
with the mashers and the strainers.
The boiling point and the preservatives,
the thermostat that will sink in a side.
All those are emotions ready at hand
for lamentations of...
among our kind. Among the singed.
Among the moths of fringes and in their
fringes is this fact burnt from that what
we misunderstand as the moon in the kitchen.
It is a joyous metaphor of the night-blues.
There we edge drawers of butchers
and carvers. There we prosody
with the mashers and the strainers.
The boiling point and the preservatives,
the thermostat that will sink in a side.
All those are emotions ready at hand
for lamentations of...
#identity
#nature
#culture #NaPoWriMo2019
#culture #NaPoWriMo2019
12 reads
5 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
23rd Apr 2019 5:05am
23rd Apr 2019 5:05am
Lakeside 22/30
We say who we were right then.
Tell me, were you made to uncurl
your proboscis and bend the antennae
down as the television turns into dirty snow.
We disturb each other’s entry-ways
with tell me more, tell me more about the world
outside, I’ve just came from this place,
this cemented state,
something grey and narrow and it wasn’t the sky,
I barely made it out. The subject always
leaves the kitchen lights on with the grace
of a million moons. Somehow, we flew there
without science. Once upon a hot night,
I...
Tell me, were you made to uncurl
your proboscis and bend the antennae
down as the television turns into dirty snow.
We disturb each other’s entry-ways
with tell me more, tell me more about the world
outside, I’ve just came from this place,
this cemented state,
something grey and narrow and it wasn’t the sky,
I barely made it out. The subject always
leaves the kitchen lights on with the grace
of a million moons. Somehow, we flew there
without science. Once upon a hot night,
I...
#identity
#nature
#culture #NaPoWriMo2019
#culture #NaPoWriMo2019
12 reads
2 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
5th Apr 2020 6:01am
5th Apr 2020 6:01am
I want to say 3/30
I want to say
trip the
light
fantastic but it means to
dance
this is not what I want to say here
I want to sign a
requiem
for a
dream but that’s
a movie
for tripping
it’s telling me all kinds of
things
it’s gesturing me
to
conduct
compose
di-
a -
gram
a
mirror
of
my own
light
it’s telling
me to
own lines
& let’s not
drown
in the mirror ...
trip the
light
fantastic but it means to
dance
this is not what I want to say here
I want to sign a
requiem
for a
dream but that’s
a movie
for tripping
it’s telling me all kinds of
things
it’s gesturing me
to
conduct
compose
di-
a -
gram
a
mirror
of
my own
light
it’s telling
me to
own lines
& let’s not
drown
in the mirror ...
#identity
#myself
12 reads
2 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
5th Apr 2020 6:33am
5th Apr 2020 6:33am
I rub upon your 4/30
I rub upon your
temples
coarse
finger grains
fine
the microcosm
the mica
the pumice
of breaking apart
i could break it down
phonetically
with eye
naked
exfoliated
but the ocular
that’s learned how things occur
the abstract
mold concept
superimposed
rods
cones
making wind
stone
my words
pottery
they are the clay
living poetry
ephemeral dirt
in oyster shells
temples
coarse
finger grains
fine
the microcosm
the mica
the pumice
of breaking apart
i could break it down
phonetically
with eye
naked
exfoliated
but the ocular
that’s learned how things occur
the abstract
mold concept
superimposed
rods
cones
making wind
stone
my words
pottery
they are the clay
living poetry
ephemeral dirt
in oyster shells
#identity
#myself
12 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Least Read Poems about Life, Society and the World
